


Baby The Wolf Is Calling

by Ambrosia_Ragweed



Series: Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Typical Violence, Knotting, M/M, Nick is a BAMF, Not Beta Read, Outdoor Sex, Scars, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrosia_Ragweed/pseuds/Ambrosia_Ragweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe where Nick is raised by his Grimm uncle and meets Monroe when he is still a running wild with Angelina. This story takes place 8 months after Just Like You and is about their second meeting. </p>
<p>"Monroe’s hand trembles as he drags his fingers along ridged scar tissue, liking the idea of Nick wearing his mark and the way the Grimm leaned into his touch, seeking something more. His eyebrows arched into a v as his forehead scrunched up, “I thought you were going to kill me next time you saw me?” Monroe says an inch from Nick’s ear. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby The Wolf Is Calling

Late Spring, Providence, Rhode Island  
  
Lonely, his wolf was so lonely that Monroe felt heavy limbed and exhausted. His chest hurt. The wolf howled for pack, for Angelina whom he left behind, for the hunt that Monroe was denying him, for the man who had walked in and changed the Blutbad’s life then left. Monroe flopped over on his belly, trying to ignore it. The book he was reading forgotten on the floor beside the bed. Its pages splayed haphazardly. Was he really going to live the rest of life like this? The thought made him climb out of bed and wander into the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle of Jack out of the cupboard above the fridge; he filled a tumbler half full, and wandered into the bathroom. He sipped the whiskey as he groomed himself for a night out. A brief glance in the mirror showed him that his hair needed to be cut, the dark curls covered his ears but there was nothing he could do about it. He dug through clothes, keeping his mind blank, and finally chooses a gray plaid shirt with khakis. He knew what he was going to do, had done it before, been over the pros and cons enough times to know that both sides canceled each other out.  
  
Wandering through the crowded bar, he looked for someone who resembled the one he really wanted enough to satisfy the wolf. Black hair was a must. Pale skin. Close to the same height. He saw a guy by the bathrooms that was perfect and, as he watched through the crowd of people, his prey walked up to the bar. Something in him relaxed, everything was going to be okay.  
  
But then he lost him. Sniffing the air to catch his scent, Monroe pushed his way through the crowd from the bar, to the bathrooms and then out into an ally. He caught a glimpse of black leather and dark hair. Outside, he inhaled getting a heavier dose of the scent. A memory was triggered and his body grew hard, the wolf growling feral at the back of his throat. The urge to woge almost overwhelms him but he forces it down. Nick is here.  
  
It’s been close to eight fucking months and he’s several hundred miles away from his one night stand gone wrong with the Grimm.  
  
But the wolf’s instincts lead him down one ally, across a street and up a rickety ladder to a rooftop where Nick is playing sniper with one helluv’ double barrel gun. The Grimm puts a finger to his lips for silence and then gestures for Monroe to get down. Crouching in the shadow of a larger building, Monroe watches Nick take aim, pull the trigger and the shot reverberates. Monroe scents blood followed by the sound of something large toppling over.  
  
Nick slithers back and slides the gun into its case. “Come on.” He says to Monroe in a voice softer than a whisper and barely louder than a breath.  
  
Down the ladder, back through the ally with Nick stopping to hide the gun along the way, and ending up right back at the club’s ally door. Nick musses Monroe’s hair and messes up his clothes a little.  
  
“So what, I’m like your alibi? Should I check and see what other weapons you have on you tonight? Say a knife? Or a handy Doppelarmbrust?”  
  
“Well, I don’t come equipped with claws.” Nick presses against him. A hand resting on his shoulder, “Do you want to see?” He pulls up his black tee with his other hand and reveals the long curved scars across his abdomen.  
  
Monroe’s hand trembles as he drags his fingers along ridged scar tissue, liking the idea of Nick wearing his mark and the way the Grimm leaned into his touch, seeking something more. His eyebrows arched into a v as his forehead scrunched up, “I thought you were going to kill me next time you saw me?” Monroe growled an inch from Nick’s ear.  
  
“I thought you were going to make me beg for it when you fucked me?” Nick taunted, stepping back, leading him through the door and onto the crowded throbbing dance floor. Lights flashed and flickered. The base was loud and primal. The club reeked. Lust mixed with too many other smells. Monroe was close to sensory overload as the sensations flickered between sharp pleasure and pain.  
  
They don’t so much dance as grind against each other. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Nick’s mouth kissing his neck; the Grimm’s hands roaming over his back. The brief moments of cock brushing against cock through layers of kaki and denim burned. He felt rock hard and strung too tight like a guitar string about to snap.  
  
Nick sensed when the club and the foreplay become too much for the Blutbad. Monroe’s gray eyes changed from merely hungry to voracious. The hunter part of him is focused on the the wolf pacing beneath the surface of the other man’s skin. He doesn’t want just Monroe the man; he wanted both. He wanted red eyes, teeth, fur covered arms and claws. He wanted Monroe in charge growling orders at him. He wanted what he almost had before he pulled the fucking knife.  
  
Baiting the wolf, pushing at boundaries that were sure to get him hurt, Nick draws his tongue in a rough lick from Monroe’s chin to ear.  
  
The Blutbad’s eyes briefly glowed red. “Nick,” he growled with an unspoken “don’t, not here.”  
  
He grabbed Nick’s wrist in a vise grip dragging him through the crowd, out into the street and pushed him into the white truck. Inside the cab, breathing heavy, Monroe was torn between taking him home or finding some private place close by. “You did this on purpose. You found me.” He spits out, still in shock at finding the Grimm in the club. Fuck, Nick shot and probably killed a Wesen tonight. The violence hadn’t even fazed either of them. And it should. Killing should mean something, should be disturbing and not as causal an act as getting a cup of coffee at Starbucks.  
  
Nick shruged. “Are we going someplace?”  
  
“Where are you staying?” Monroe asked trying to get the situation under control but it’s hard when their lust is so strong it’s all he can smell and taste.  
  
Instead of giving a straight answer, Nick waited for him to turn the truck on and then gave him directions to Blackstone Park Conservation District. Monroe stopped the car close by. “Dude, you can’t seriously be staying in the park?”  
  
“No.” Nick opened the door and slipped out of his leather jacket, leaving it on the seat. He’s left wearing a simple black tee and jeans. “Hey, Monroe, close your eyes and count to fifty.”  
  
Monroe got out of the cab and circiled around the truck so he’s only a few feet from the Grimm. “This is dangerous, Nick. I don’t play these games like normal folk.”  
“You wanted me in the club. You wanted me in alley. So, close your eyes and count.”  
  
Monroe leaned back on the balls of his feet, then rocked forward; when he speaks he looks at Nick sideways rather than head on. “This is like playing Russian roulette, its not will I hurt you but how bad.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Nick took a few steps backwards, smiling, and turned to run into the dark park.  
  
Instincts try to take over but his rational mind shouted, “hell no, this is a disaster waiting to happen”. So, he hesitates, then rememberd why he was originally in the bar, what he was looking for. The loneliness that was there at the beginning of the night rears its head. He closed his eyes, counting slowly to fifty, then opened his eyes and starts to hunt the Grimm.  
  
He breathed in loam, winter’s leavings moldering, the city, dog markings, some feral cats, and then there was Nick. His scent was bright and clear, an unseen meteor trail of pheromones, shampoo and Mountain Fresh Dial. Monroe knows this park. Knows the hills and dips, the walkways and the best spots to hide, so he anticipates where Nick is headed. He takes a different route, one that is faster, and tackled the Grimm. Slamming the man face first into the ground and knocking the breath out of him.  
  
Monroe straddled the other man, leans down and buries his nose in the crook of where neck met shoulder. He breaths Nick in. Loving the way he smelled, refusing to wonder why he smelled so much better than anyone else. Nick moved slightly and he growls, nipping him.  
  
Nick stilled. His heart beating hard from fear tinged arousal. Monroe drags his nose up along his neck until his face is buried in Nick’s hair. He can feel the Blutbad’s body stretched out and covering his own. He’s heavy. His body heat burned through Nick’s skin and set his blood on fire. Finally, Monroe moved from Nick’s hair and slowly sniffed down his spine. He pushes Nick’s tee up and lick’s at the exposed skin. Bite his hip to the point of bruising. He pushes at Nick so that he’d roll over which he does. Then he nuzzles the scars on Nick’s belly. He lightly traced one with his tongue. Something sparkled, sizzled, and his whole body is on fire. Monroe lightly kissed the barest edge of a scar and looked up, staring straight into Nick’s eyes, “Mine.” He orders. Nick’s breathe catches. He thinks Monroe’s red eyes are the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Then the Blutbad moved down nuzzling, sniffing, at the bulge in Nick’s jeans.  
  
“Fuck.” Nick moaned. His pants are unbuttoned, yanked down and then off. “In the back pocket…”  
  
Monroe retrieved a condom that would never fit him and two little packets of lube. He ripped one open, dribbles the lube over Nick’s whole, then it’s one finger, stretch and wait, a second, stretch and wait, and a third. He slicking himself down with the second packet and entering the Grimm. Fucking him is like coming home. He works himself all the way in, then leans down and kisses Nick, deeply, with tongue until he feels Nick trying to move on him. He moves causing Nick to arch his back and moan.  
  
When it started to drizzle, they don’t really notice. The cold wet added another layer of sensation on top of hot skin and burning friction. Monroe felt himself swell impossibly bigger as Nick reached down and jerked himself off. The sight of him coming, ropes of creamy white cum shooting over them both, brought Monroe to a point of madness. His fingers dug into the soft skin of Nick’s hip, bruising, as he pistoned in and out of the Grimm’s ass. Not caring now, if he hurts him. Nick makes pain laced pleasure filled whimpering noises. He jerks and his dick felt like it’s exploding in waves of golden pleasure. His cum filled the other man up. The knot tightening until he feels Nick stretched taunt around it.  
  
They lay there, suddenly aware of sticks, stones and the drizzle turning to a soft steady rain. Monroe pretended not to notice the tear tracks down Nick’s cheeks. He struggled to find something to say. For the first time in months, he felt whole. He doesn’t feel like he lost an arm or leg or some other limb. And he knew he should question all of it, but laying there with his cock filling up, stretching his lover, he couldn’t. He could only think of the now and not all that is wrong with this situation. “Meeting you made me a better person. I don’t…” Monroe struggled with the words. He couldn’t seem to spit out “kill” or “eat” instead it’s, “hurt people like that anymore.”  
  
Nick threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled his head down for a kiss. Then he’s lost in the sensation of Nick’s tongue in his mouth, licking at his own, tracing his canines. By the time Monroe could pull out, Nick was half hard.  
  
Dressed, back in the truck, and talking about getting breakfast somewhere, Monroe wondered how he was going to cope when Nick leaves again. So, he takes Nick home and is surprised when he wakes up holding the Grimm.  
  
“I was wondering if I could crash here with you for a while.” Nick asked quietly.  
  
Normally, the wolf wouldn’t tolerate sharing intimate space with a stranger but the animal in him wants this. Still he hesitated, “I’d expect you to help out, dude, this wouldn’t be a free couch to surf on. You know, do dishes and keep the place clean. I mean we would share the responsibilities.”  
  
“I could handle that.” Nick looked exhausted.  
  
“Good.” Monroe felt like a fake because actually it sounded great. Amazing, really. “I’m glad that’s settled.”  
  
They wiggle into a comfortable position. Monroe the big spoon to Nick’s little spoon and drifted back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This work is dedicated to Mikey who will never read it and, because of that, named after a line from Wumpscut's song "the Wolf". I miss talking about werewolves and music and such with you. 
> 
> 2\. The idea behind this series is that Monroe and Nick meet too early. They have to grow into being perfect for each other. So there will be some sadness and then eventualy end up where they are in the series only having got there a different way. 
> 
> 3\. This is set in Providence. I have never been there. If something is really off about the description or you're frome there and feel it needs a shout out to any specific landmark, let me know. 
> 
> 4\. I appreciate all comments/criticisms/complete randomness. If you hace something you want to say but, for what ever reason, don't think you can say it here. Feel free to tell me at tumblr: http://ambrosiaragweed.tumblr.com/
> 
> 5\. I know I have a problem with tenses and spelling. I try hard to catch everything. Unfortunately, the best way for me to fix tenses is manualy doing it by hand after I print a story out. My pos printer is currently down for the count so please tell me if you see things that need fixing. 
> 
> 6\. I do not own Grimm or it's characters. I just play with them.


End file.
